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Heretic Mage: Rise of the Dark God’s Necromancer

Death. Servitude. Submission. That was all Morne had known for the past eight years. Everything he had known and loved had been taken from him, and it was his fate to be a slave, passed around from master to master like a disgusting disease no one wanted but everyone received. Soon after, a demon with a tantalizing promise appeared. "I’m here to Anoint you," the demon whispered. "My lord, Jiklok, has deemed you a mortal worth keeping an eye on. And I have another offer as well." The demon offered Morne a path to the power he had lacked in life, a way to seize his own destiny. Necromancy. The things he asked for in exchange seemed... small in comparison. Using his newfound necromantic powers, Morne would inflict on those who did him wrong all he had suffered and more. Those who had destroyed his village would be slaughtered beneath waves of undead, those masters who had sold and traded him like cheap wares would be forever bound to Morne's service, just as they had bound him. He would be his own master. Death. Servitude. Submission. ...... No MC harems are to be found here. If you need that kind of stuff in a story, you won't like this. Currently dropped. If you like this book, consider checking out my other ongoing book. It's called "Crown of Nightmares: Banished to Hell For My Bloodline!"

Lolbroman25 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
201 Chs

When Goblins Fly

The Dryads, understandably, knew nothing of the power Morne had tapped into.

"I have never heard of this kind of ability," Adrelhena said. "It matches none of the magic we've come to know."

Morne just nodded. He had thought as much.

"But regardless, you have won us a great victory against the goblins. Five of their horrid mutants lay dead, and a sixth is now under our control, albeit for a limited amount of time, according to your words."

Morne had gone along with his original plan of telling the Dryads that he could dominate beasts that he had broken the will of, resulting in it losing all form of thought and pain and becoming a vessel for his will.

They had reacted with clear unease, but acknowledged that it was, on many levels, somewhat similar to what the Dryads did with plants, and so were able to swallow the worst of their revulsion.

"If you can call a loss of over half of the men we sent a 'victory,'" said the Dryad with the braids.